The Puppy
by recycledsmiles
Summary: Wes Gibbins is dead and the Keating 4 are lost and helpless. Can the eight strangers who appeared in Wes' funeral help them?
1. The Funeral Part 1

It was a gloomy day, like a response to the injustice of his death.

His casket has been lowered for over an hour now and most of the attendees have already left except for six people who remained on the spot, looking helpless and lost. Wes' death was still a mystery, something that is weighing down the group, especially with Annalise stuck in prison, and all eyes—friends and strangers—are on them.

Asher cleared his throat and looked at his friends hesitantly. "I…" he started. No one knew what to say, not even him who is known to be the tactless one in the group. He sat right on the edge of the freshly filled-up grave, playing with the dirt aimlessly. "So what now?" he finally asked.

No one spoke for a while. How could they? No one knew the answer, not even Bonnie who visited Annalise in prison almost everyday. Annalise didn't have an answer, either. They only knew two things about Wes' death: one, he was dead before the fire; and two, someone killed him on purpose. They didn't know a lot, and the facts they have doesn't answer much of their questions but they held onto these facts as if right answers are hidden in between, waiting to be unraveled.

"Wish we weren't so hard on him," Michaela muttered.

Connor scoffed. "He deserved it, Michaela. He started the mess we were in and kept secrets from us. I know—," his voice suddenly cracked, the emotions he was bottling inside trying to surface. Connor took a deep breath before speaking again. "I know I wasn't the nicest to him and I have threatened him a number of times but… who ever did this... it is also an attack on us. On Annalise. We have to be prepared."

"I'm willing to help," Oliver suddenly announced in a quiet tone. They all looked at him, even Laurel who was just looking at Wes' tombstone the whole time her friends were talking. Oliver glanced over at Connor. They haven't talked since that horrible night at the hospital but he knew Connor understood. Oliver knew everything and it was probably why Connor was staying away.

Asher got up from the ground and puts a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "Buddy, you don't know what you're trying to get into," he said in a nervous tone. Everyone in the group were aware of Oliver's innocence and letting him help them would corrupt the man even more, but they were also aware of how much they needed his expertise. They were torn, to say the least.

"No, I've spoken with Annalise," Oliver said.

"Of course," Connor scoffed again.

"This is not the time to talk about this," Bonnie interrupted the brewing tension forming between the ex-lovers. They have been inseparable since the night of the fire but they haven't talked about getting back together. Their lives were on pause. Bonnie looks over to Laurel who went back to staring at the tombstone. She approached the grieving woman and touchers her arm. "Laurel, are you okay? Do you want to sit down for a second?"

Laurel shook her head and kept staring. She put a hand to her stomach and clutched onto her dress. They all stared at her. She hasn't spoken to anyone other than Meggy. Meggy came to the funeral but because she was hurting in a different way, she left as soon as the service was over. She couldn't look at anyone, and didn't stop crying the whole time. They were all thinking the same thing: she got lucky she wasn't roped into their mess. Before leaving, she approached Laurel and whispered something in her ear. They hugged afterwards and the other woman left, and they probably won't see her again.

It was Laurel who saw them first. Her eyes, clouded with unshed tears, saw their forms getting closer. She blinked and they became clearer. Eight people, who looked like they were the same age as them, approached Wes' grave.

A woman with a wild, bushy hair was holding a small wreath. She was also holding hands with the tallest person Laurel had ever seen. Behind them was a man with a crazy jet black hair and huge glasses, walking together with a ginger-haired woman. Following along was three people—a man in between two blonde-haired women. They looked confused and sad at the same time, Laurel noted. And then he saw another man who was walking slowly way behind all of them. His face was pale, and he was wearing a neon pink dress. When he got closer, Laurel's crew finally noticed the people approaching. They all stood close together, waiting to see where they were headed to. When they realized they're approaching Wes' grave, they tensed.

"Is this it?" The bushy-haired woman asked. "Wes Gibbins?"

The man with glasses nodded. "That's it." He looked at the people wearing funeral clothes standing in front of Wes' grave. They didn't even notice but they moved towards the grave, looking ready to fight.

Connor noticed the accents first. He looked at all of them curiously, and rest his eyes on the man wearing the dress. He was confused. How could these English people know who Wes is?

A woman with a long, straight blonde hair approached Laurel and smiled at her. "Hmm, you will have the most beautiful child."

The other blonde-haired woman looked embarrassed and pulled the other woman away from Laurel. "I'm sorry!" she exclaimed.

Laurel looked shocked and covered her stomach with her arm, Oliver and Asher stood in front of the woman to protect her as well. They didn't know what to say, but most importantly, they're curious, so they moved to give the eight stranger space around Wes' grave.

The four people who walked in front of their group stood on one side of the grave while the other three stood on the other side. The man wearing the bright dress stood in front of Wes' grave. He started crying and knelt, grabbing dirt as he cried. The other eight strangers started crying as well. They were muttering words Laurel and the others couldn't understand. They also heard them mentioning unfamiliar names. Mostly, they heard them say "Dean" over and over again.

Michaela and Asher held each other as they watch the strangers grieve. They didn't know why, but they couldn't leave. They knew they were interrupting a private moment but they were curious. They were curious about the strangers' identities, and confused about their connection with their dead friend. After a few minutes, the strangers stopped crying and wiped their faces. The kneeling man stood up and the eight strangers hugged each other.

Laurel walked over them, her movement surprising her friends. She tapped the tall red-haired man's back. He turned and looked down at Laurel. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. "Who are you?" she asked in a small voice.

They all turned to look at her this time. The man on a dress gasped. "You're Laurel, aren't you?"

She nodded, confused. "Who are you?" she asked again. Her friends walked up to her and stood right behind her.

"How did you know her name?" Michaela asked.

"Dea—Wes," the man started. "Wes mentioned you."

"We should talk somewhere else," Bonnie broke in, before her companions ask for more questions. Bonnie gave them the address to her house and asked them to meet them there in an hour. The strangers left quietly, holding on to one another.

"That was freakin' weird," Asher broke the silence after the strangers left their sight. "I guess Wes still has surprises in store for us."

Connor groaned. "He's dead but he's still dragging us along to his mess."

"How sure are you this is another mess?" Oliver asked.

"Let's just go," Michaela interjected. "They'll probably go straight to Bonnie's house, and I have so many questions."

They all turned to look at Wes' grave once again, and started to walk away. Laurel didn't move at first. Then, she walked towards the tombstone and caressed its smooth edges, just like the times she used to caress Wes' face. She dropped her hand to her side and whimpered, "I will always miss you, Wes."

Then she left, and rain started pouring down heavily, beating down on the ground.


	2. The Funeral Part 2

A/N: Hi guys! This is a crossover of HP and HTGAWM. I'm going to update every Sunday and the story will not be following the story of the remaining episodes of the show. What they did to my boy was unacceptable henny! HE SHOULD STILL BE ALIVE!

-O-

Ten minutes after Laurel left, the eight strangers reappeared once again.

Hermione Granger, the bushy-haired woman, casted a disillusionment charm to her and her friends so they won't be seen by the other group standing a few meters away from them. They waited patiently for the other group to leave. They watched them talk in quiet voices, trying not to be rude and listen in to their conversation.

When the last of them finally left, they walked back to the grave and occupy the space the six people was standing on earlier. They cried and held each other while sitting around the fresh grave. Someone conjured an umbrella so they won't get soaked from the rain.

While crying, Ron Weasley, the tall red-haired man, suddenly snickered through his own tears. His company looked at him, their eyes brimming with tears and shocked with their friend's sudden change in emotions.

"I'm sorry," Ron said, trying to control his emotions. "I just can't believe Seamus actually wore the dress."

Lavender giggled, and soon, all of them were chuckling. "Shut up, mate," Seamus croaked. "He would've done the same if I died first. We promised." Seamus grabbed his wand from the holster strapped on his leg under the tight dress he was wearing. He waved the wand over his head and the dress shifted to a pink shirt and pants.

"I know, but it doesn't mean you don't look ridiculous," Ron continued. Seamus punched the tall man's arm playfully. They knew Ron was trying to make light of the situation, something they needed at the moment, especially with how clueless they were about their friend's death.

"This is so unfair," Ginny, the red-haired woman, suddenly said. "How can he die here? As a muggle? When he survived a year on the run during the war?"

Neville nodded. "He can run fast. He's smart and a survivor. A _war_ survivor! How could he die so suddenly?"

Harry put his huge glasses back on, after he wiped off the tears on his face and sighed, "Life can surprise you in the most unexpected way. But… why Wes Gibbins?"

"He had to adopt a different name. He couldn't use Dean Thomas without the MACUSA following him out here and questioning all of his actions. You know how they are with British witches and wizards. He's well-known… all of us are," Seamus explained.

"Seamus' right," Hermione interjected. "If they find out we're here, they won't leave us alone."

"But why would he choose to live like a complete muggle?" Neville questioned. "They won't be able to trace his magic."

"Personal reasons," Seamus answered back. "His real parents were muggles, he believed. His adoptive parents were magical. He wanted to be closer to his parents by living like a muggle for some time."

"He's lucky. He got into a family who'd understand him," Harry commented. Hermione and Ron looked at their best friend with a sad look in their eyes.

Neville chose not to comment on Harry's words, and continued to focus on Dean. "He didn't use his wand for two years! Harry checked," Neville exclaimed. "Why would he do that after all the problems he got into?"

Seamus shook his head slightly. "I don't know either."

They were quiet after that. They have so many questions. They knew Dean was having problems in America but didn't know the extent of it. They volunteered to help him but he insisted that he had the situation under control.

He died instead.

"The resurrection stone could've been useful," Ron announced.

"Or the time-turner," Hermione followed.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, which made Ginny drape her arm around his shoulders.

"Not your fault, mate," Neville assured the guilty looking man.

Luna just sighed. "Nothing would've changed," she said in her sweet voice. "He'd still die."

"Way to stomp on our hope, Luna," Lavender pouted.

"It's the truth," Luna responded in a serious tone, her face void of emotions. Then without a beat, she smiled once again. "It's awfully cold now. I can't be sick; I won't be able to feed the bowtruckles if I do and I'm the only one they allow to be near them. Well, Neville's here to help, but I'd rather do it by myself."

Lavender smiled and said, "We should go ahead and apparate to the address, we only have fifteen minutes left. They're probably waiting for us."

Hermione nodded, stood up and brushed the dirt off her skirt. The others did the same. Hermione pointed her wand to the wreath leaning on the tombstone and muttered _engorgio_ , and the wreath doubled in size.

They all touched the tombstone and looked at each. Harry nodded and they all raised their wands in the sky. The tip of their wands conjured a bright light. The rain, at the same time, has stopped. The clouds parted and the sky became as clear as a summer's day.

"We'll make things right, Dean," Seamus announced.

Ginny touched the tombstone affectionately, just like the way Laurel touched it. "We'll miss you," she whispered.

No one could say it. But it was hanging in the air. The word that would make his death even more real. What they did instead was hold hands and apparate on the spot. Their forms twisted and in a second, they all disappeared.

They couldn't say it but it was there in their minds. Good bye.


	3. Bonnie's House

A/N: Before we start I just want to thank everyone who left kudos and comments. It makes me extremely happy to know that I'm not the only one who finds this crossover to be interesting! So thank you, thank you! Anyway, here is chapter 3 and for some reason, I wanted this chapter to be kind of funny.

Chapter 3

"I'm very nervous for some reason," Oliver announced as he poured himself a glass of water. The group immediately drove back to Bonnie's house to talk about what occurred at the cemetery and were now patiently waiting for the strangers to arrive.

"I feel you, bro. There's some weird juju around those people, I could totes feel it," Asher responded. "Like, how could the tiny blond chick guess Laurel's pregnant, you know? Literally made me shiver," he continued while shaking his whole body, overacting a shiver.

Bonnie rolled her eyes while Michaela non-discreetly smacked him on the arm and gave him a pointed look. Asher glanced at Laurel and mouthed an apology then reached for his girlfriend's hand and held it tightly with both of his own. Laurel watched the act intently, but didn't say a word and just clutched the throw pillow—that she was using to cover her stomach—tightly.

"Is this really necessary, though?" Michaela asked. "If we let them in, then all the skeletons in the closet will come out, whether we want to or not. Isn't it smarter to push them away now and deal with this by ourselves? Like… the best that we can?"

They were quiet for a few minutes, each person trying to assess their situation in their heads.

"How sure are we that Annalise didn't do this?" Connor finally spoke.

Bonnie turned her head towards the man slowly, and looked at him coldly. "Annalise will never do that to anyone, especially Wes. You have to stop doing that, Connor. You need to stop blaming Annalise for every single thing that has happened or will happen. She helped all of us the best way she could.

This time, we have to help her get out of jail and give Wes the justice he deserves," Bonnie finished with a deep sigh. She was tired, and it was showing. The woman looked frail after only a few weeks: preparing for the cemetery, running back and forth for Annalise, and spending time with her remaining colleagues.

"It's just tha—," Connor was about to talk again but was interrupted by a knock on the door, which the people in the room was thankful for because they did not want to go over anything that involves Annalise just yet, even though everything revolves around her as well.

"They're here," Oliver said nervously. Everyone stood up, except for Laurel. Bonnie answered the door and led the other group in her home.

They took notice of Seamus first. He was not wearing the bright pink dress anymore, and instead, was wearing a crisp, black suit. Oliver blushed when he assessed how attractive the man was. Connor, on the other hand, was observing Neville who was wearing a black suit with green tie that has intricate designs which made it look like it was moving.

Lavender broke the silence first. "This is a lovely home," she commented warmly.

"Thank you," Bonnie muttered as she closed her door and put the three latches back to lock the door. The famous trio watched her actions, and looked at each other in understanding. _This woman is afraid._

Laurel looked at the new faces and observed each and everyone. They were all good-looking, she supposed. Even the weird blond-woman who approached earlier was attractive, although she looked like a goth in her black Victorian mourning gown. Laurel also noted how the woman didn't look like she was hot in her heavy attire.

"So… welcome to the meet and greet, _maties_!" Asher joked.

"You're embarrassing," Michaela groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Hermione bit her lip, trying to stop herself from smiling. She understood the other woman's frustration. She glanced at her own boyfriend who looked like he was thinking the same.

The people in the room shook hands and introduced themselves to each other before they all found seats and got comfortable.

"Wes never mentioned any British friends," Connor started. He was curious about their identities but most importantly, interested about Wes' life. "Other than his love for keeping secrets and complicated white women, we don't really know much about his life."

Seamus smiled and glanced at Ginny. Ginny, in return, blushed and held Harry's hand tightly with her own. "Wes had a complicated life," Seamus responded.

The wizards and witches didn't have any plans. Before traveling to America, they gathered and talked about how to approach the strange muggles. Harry did not want to involve the muggles but Hermione reasoned that they would have to interact with the muggles eventually because of their close relationship with Dean. Harry relented soon after, seeing Hermione's point.

Neville suggested lacing the drinks with Verisaterum. His friends turned down the idea because they would need to have an approval from the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione proposed using the Confundus charm instead but they would be required to point their wands at the muggles repeatedly before the magic wears off. Ginny was uncomfortable with the idea of pointing their wands at innocent people.

In return, Ginny suggested stalking the muggles using the invisibility cloak, which made everyone look at her weirdly. "What? I'm just throwing out ideas! Polyjuice potion would take a month to brew," she reasoned with her hands on her hips, an image that parallels her fierce mother.

Luna offered her favorite creatures, called Nargles, to listen to their thoughts.

Lavender suggested a complicated plan that would involve tricking, and slightly threatening, the muggles into telling them everything.

Ron suggested Legilimency. Harry was the only one who knew how to perform the spell among their group. Harry, disliked the idea for two reasons: one, he did not want to invade their privacy; and two, the act gives him PTSD, a disorder which he acquired after the war.

They realized then that performing magic on the muggles won't be smart, so Harry suggested that they should get to know Dean's friends first before taking action. Seamus remained quiet the whole time and left his group to plan.

"Try me," Connor challenged Seamus, willing the British man to break his attention away from his thoughts. "And we already know about his shitty childhood so maybe you can skip all that and just tell us how he knew all of you."

Connor knew he was being snarky, but he didn't care. He needed answers and he needed them fast. He wanted to be separated from his group, ever since the night of the first murder. He did not want to keep associating himself with his colleagues but Michaela, for some reason, became a reason for him to stay. If Oliver did not mess with his Stanford application, he would've left him the moment he received his acceptance letter. After Wes' death, however, he has started to realize that leaving won't solve the problem. He needed to put the pieces together before he could move on.

"We went to school together," Seamus simply stated.

Connor and his group, and even Laurel, were confused. "School? Are there schools swarming with British kids here in the United States?" Connor asked.

Seamus shifted on his seat and looked at Harry and Ginny. The couple nodded encouragingly, letting their friend start their story. "No there aren't," Seamus started. "We knew Dean from our school in…Scotland."

The other group looked at each other, their eyes full of questions and disbelief.

"He was in Scotland? With you?" Asher asked.

The eight strangers nodded their heads.

"I don't get it," Asher expressed. "Wasn't Wes a foster child here?"

"He was actually adopted," Seamus replied. "He was adopted by a couple and when he was eleven, he was sent to a private school in Scotland where we all stayed for six years."

"Wow, and he didn't adopt any accent?" Asher mused.

"How did he die?" Seamus asked, not bothering to answer Asher.

Bonnie cleared her throat and stood from her seat. "He was found dead in Annalise Keating's house," she responded in her quiet but strong voice.

"But how did he die?" Seamus pressed, his face showed grief and eagerness.

"We don't know," Michaela answered this time. "He died before the fire. Well, that's what Nate told Annalise."

"Blimey, there are more people involved in this?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"We want to help give Wes the justice he deserved," Harry announced. "We didn't come here to grieve or just to say goodbye to our dear friend, we came here to solve our friend's untimely death. Or murder."

"What? You're friends with people who work in the Scotland Yard?" Connor scoffed.

Seamus raised his hand slightly. "Guilty," he admitted. "I'm in the special taskforce."

Seamus was not lying. After graduating in Hogwarts and training at the Auror Academy, the Ministry assigned him to work at the Scotland Yard with five other magical detectives to solve special cases which involve both magic and muggle crimes and mystery. His knowledge of both muggle and wizarding culture helped him with his job immensely. And it didn't hurt that he was known to be an expert on creating and disarming explosives: with or without magic.

"I'm a detective too," Harry announced. "We're all trained for combat and spying."

No one in the other group seemed to be excited about their confession, which the others noticed.

"We won't get in your way," Lavender suddenly spoke. She observed the Americans throughout their conversation, and noticed how uncomfortable and tense they all were.

"But it doesn't mean we won't be seeing each other again," Ginny added.

"It just means your secrets will remain secrets if you want to, and we won't consciously seek them if they're not important with solving our friend's death," Hermione joined.

This was it, Bonnie thought. She was sure this was their way of laying down the agreement without being too direct. "That would be fine," Bonnie agreed.

Her team looked at her but didn't object. That was that, they thought.

Seamus shrugged and stood up. His friends followed suit. "Well," he boomed. "I guess we better leave before the sun goes down, we don't want to impose."

The others stood up from their seats and shook the British visitors' hands. When Luna reached for Laurel's hand, she leaned down and whispered something in the grieving woman's ear. Laurel looked puzzled but didn't say anything.

The group got out of the house but before walking away, Oliver asked, "Where did you park?"

"We walked," Hermione responded.

When the witches and wizards finally left, the remaining people in Bonnie's house looked relieved.

"Walked?" Asher suddenly asked. "Isn't the cemetery in the other town?"

"You're right," Oliver said. "They're weird."

"What did Luna whisper in your ear?" Connor asked Laurel, who was still looking a bit puzzled.

Laurel shrugged. "It doesn't matter, I didn't understand." Connor turned to Michaela and rested his head on his friend's shoulder.

Laurel stared at the floor. She didn't understand why but there was something that was drawing her near to her dead boyfriend's mysterious friends, especially the blond-haired woman named Luna. _I'll see you again_ , she whispered softly in her ear.

But, when?


	4. Before Moving

Two years earlier.

Seamus watched his best friend move around their shared apartment. The six-foot-tall man waved his wand here, and pointed his wand there, not caring about the worried looks Seamus was throwing at him. Dean pointed at the bookshelf and summoned for his books and packed them in his luggage with an undetected extendable charm.

"Do you really need to go?" Seamus whined. "Do you really want to leave your life here, mate?"

Dean chuckled. "I'm not going to disappear forever, Shay."

"You'll be in a different continent, though! The owls will take forever to travel!" Seamus argued.

"Or I can just send you emails. You do know you work with muggles, right? You're completely surrounded by muggle technology," Dean argued back playfully.

"That's another thing, Dean, you're going to live like a muggle! It's like being a meat-lover converting to veganism! Like an addict stopping cold-turkey! Like Umbridge without children to feed on!"

Dean guffawed. "No need for the theatrics, mate! Merlin, I'll miss you, you know that?" Dean sat across from his best friend on their kitchen table and watched his things fly towards his bottomless luggage.

Seamus frowned at his friend. "You don't need to miss me or any of this, you know? Just stay here."

"I need to do this. Being a wizard is wonderful and amazing, but I want to be closer to my muggle roots. I don't want to forget my old life… before all these," he claimed as he points at his still floating things. "I don't remember much of the past, so I want to make new memories and learn new things."

"Wish you would follow Hermione, instead. Learn how to drive, buy a cellular, and wear muggle clothes."

Dean smiled and muttered as he watches his luggage eat the rest of his stuff before it closes, "Those are superficial, mate. I want the real experience." Then, he stood up and carried the luggage back in his room. When he got back in the kitchen, his best friend was still there but chugging a bottle of Berry Ocky Rot.

"This isn't going to be like the war, Shay," Dean said in a comforting tone.

"I know that, but that doesn't mean I don't like it. You're my brother, Dean. We have been inseparable since the end of the war," Seamus argued.

"This is probably for the best, you know? We're both too dependent on each other now, it's not good for us."

"I know," Seamus admitted with a sigh.

"Besides, Lavender has been pouting at me more than usual lately. I have a feeling she thinks you're not asking her out because I'm secretly in love with you and I'm putting love potions in your food," Dean joked.

Seamus laughed, allowing the tension to leave the room. "You probably are, to be honest!"

"Dream on!" Dean laughed.

-o-

"So where are you moving?"

"What are your plans when you get there?"

"American girls are into British blokes, Dean! My cousin had a good time in Texas when he went there for vacation! You'll get lots of girls!"

Dean laughed at his friends' enthusiasm. The questions started as soon as he stepped into the new wizarding bar that opened not long after the war. The bar was owned by Lee Jordan and he uses products from Zonko's and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for entertainment. War veterans have discount while the Dumbledore's Army members are free of charge. There was no question that Dean was going to spend his farewell party at his friend's bar.

"Seriously, mate? What are you going to do there?" Neville asked Dean.

"Well, Neville…" Dean started as he put his arm on his shoulder. "I'm planning to live as a muggle!"

His friends' faces all sported a look of shock which Dean enjoyed to look at. They knew him as a quiet and reserved kind of man, and doing something unconventional is something he is not known for.

"But… aren't you a muggleborn? Like… isn't that counterproductive?" Neville asked in confusion.

Dean chuckled. "I lived with wizards and witches all my life, Nev! I need to experience the other part of my life."

Hermione pat him on the shoulder. "I think it's a great idea," she said in encouragement. "It's just like me adapting to the wizarding world!"

Dean nodded. "I'm glad you approve, Hermione!"

Hermione and Dean became closer friends after the war. When Dean stayed with them at Shell Cottage, he and Hermione had moments where they would talk about their fears and dreams as muggleborns in the Wizarding world. When the war ended, they continued their friendship during their final year in Hogwarts. They became study partners, which Harry and Ron were grateful for because Hermione found someone who could actually match her enthusiasm when it comes to studying and has stopped nagging her two best friends about their own work ethics.

"Where are you moving, though?" Hermione asked.

"In Philadelphia! I'll be taking law at Middleton University!" Dean answered excitedly. "I was on the waitlist for months. I didn't think I'd actually get into the program this term, but I guess someone dropped out before school even begins."

"And that's why you're leaving so soon," Neville butted in.

Dean nodded but before he could respond, a bright, swishing light approach their table. The light exploded into a tiny million pieces like a mini-firework and the words "Bon Voyage, Dean!" came into view. Dean's friends and colleagues from the Ministry clapped their hands and lifted their drinks to wish him a safe trip. A group of elves approached them soon after—making Hermione purse her lips—and refilled their glasses with muggle and magical alcoholic drinks.

The party went on until the break of dawn. Everyone was smashed, even the few former Slytherins who were invited in the party have put their guards down and were completely drunk. Dean thought his party was a complete success, something he was proud of because he knew it would be a long time until he would decide come back to Britain.

Dean still had a few more days until he had to leave. He was nervous and excited about leaving, but mostly excited with the possibility of having a life without complications. The years he spent in the Wizarding world was unparalleled but he needed to make new memories, and preferably without involving death and mass-murdering psychopaths who wanted him dead.

He also wanted to find real love. Walking around Diagon Alley, Dean thought about his lack of success when it comes to his love life.

He fell in love with Ginny Weasley when he was young but it didn't work out because she was undeniably in love with the Boy Who Lived. Who could even top that?

Then he fell in love with Hermione.

Dean shook his head. He did not want to think about Hermione. He did not intend to fall in love with the brilliant woman. She was with Ron Weasley and he did not have the courage to let her know how he felt because he did not want to ruin their friendship. _Being away from Hermione would be better for everybody_ , Dean thought.

"I'm not moving because of her," Dean murmured. And it really wasn't the reason. He really wanted to learn how to live like a muggle, being away from Hermione would just be a part of it.

He stopped walking, and sat on a bench in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. He imagined life in Philadelphia. Learning about new things and making new friends. He was completely excited and thankful for the opportunity.

"It's going to be amazing," Dean murmured again. He looked up at the indigo and orange colored sky and smiled. He stood up and put his hands on his pocket. "Philadelphia is going to be amazing," he exclaimed louder, one hundred percent believing his statement.

* * *

 **A/N: I truly believe Dean/Wes falls in love quickly.**


	5. Private Moments

A/N: Hey, guys! This was a hard chapter for me to write, for some reason! Hope you enjoy this, though! Thank you for the follows and reviews!

Chapter 5

The sound of Laurel's heels click-clacking on the linoleum floor was the only sound that could be heard in the hallway. No one was there but her, and she was grateful for being alone at the moment. Michaela and Asher were on her side almost everyday since that night and although she appreciated their presence, she needed a break from them. Who knew Michaela has a caring bone in her body and Asher could be motherly? Laurel sure didn't.

Laurel fished her phone from her slacks' back pocket and checked the time. 5:28 in the afternoon, it said. She didn't know what to expect going to the hotel, but she needed to see him. She suspects he would lie to her somehow to get her trust, and that meeting up with him was a mistake but she didn't know what else to do. Sitting around and crying wouldn't bring Wes back to her and sitting around would only make her even more paranoid and more scared about her future, especially with a growing person inside her, something she was trying hard not to acknowledge just yet. So she was going to settle with a meet-up with Frank.

She stopped in front of a door, numbered 420. She smiled and thought of Asher and all of the jokes he could make on the spot for the number. Laurel took a deep breath and knocked on the door. After a few moments, Laurel heard rustling and footsteps from the other side of the door. The knob turned and then there he was…

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, in Laurel's perspective. His eyes were red, and he was wearing a simple black shirt and pants. His hair was growing back but his face was still void of his familiar beard. He, at least, has the time to groom himself, Laurel thought.

"Can I come in?" Laurel asked in a raspy voice.

"How did you know where I was?" Frank asked back.

Laurel rolled her eyes which made Frank purse his lips. "Of course," he said. "Your father."

"Yes, my father. Now can I go inside?" Frank was starting to irritate her.

Frank shrugged and moved his body out of the way so she could go in. She stepped inside the room and noticed how spotless the room was. She then noticed his bag by the entrance of the door. "You were going to leave," Laurel deduced.

Frank nodded. "I was going to," he responded.

Laurel sat on the chair near the window and sighed. "Did you put Annalise in jail?"

Frank groaned and rubbed his face with his hands and sat on the bed. "I know you don't trust me right now but you have to believe me, I didn't do anything."

"All of these wouldn't have happened if you didn't kill Mahoney!"

"These wouldn't have happened if you didn't run your fucking mouth and told Annalise I killed Lila!"

Laurel opened her mouth but couldn't come up with a comeback.

"You asked me to be honest with you and I told you the truth and instead of waiting, you went to Annalise and told her everything like you're Nancy fucking Drew!" Frank continued.

Laurel stood up. "This was a mistake," Laurel groaned and started to walk out of the room.

Frank grabbed her arm and pulled her firmly. "Don't go," Frank requested.

"This was all my fault, then? Everything had gone upside down because of me? I killed Mahoney? I killed Wes?" Laurel was starting to spin out of control and Frank could see it.

"I didn't say that," Frank answered and wrapped Laurel in his arms. "I'm sorry. You didn't do anything, Laurel. This is all my fault," Frank admitted. "If I didn't do what I did all those years ago, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Laurel didn't respond. "Please, you need to stay calm," Frank continued. "Stress isn't good for the…" he trailed which brought Laurel's attention back to him.

Laurel detached herself from her ex-boyfriend. "Tell me, Frank, do you have any idea who did this to Wes?" Laurel asked. It was the only thing she was concerned about. All of her feelings for Frank went down the drain when he left her with no explanations, making her feel and look stupid.

"I didn't do this, Laurel. I promise you," Frank replied pleadingly. "I wouldn't put Annalise in jail… or do something to hurt you this much," he muttered at the end.

"Then don't go and help us catch who killed Wes."

"I'm going to help but I have to leave."

"What for?"

"Annalise and I already spoke. I have to do this on my own."

Laurel sat back down. Of course, she thought, Annalise wouldn't stay quiet in jail. "What is she making you do, Frank?"

"I have to get her out of jail, Laurel."

Laurel just stared at Frank incredulously.

* * *

"Where do you think she is right now?" Michaela asked Asher. They were lying in bed in Asher's dorm room.

"Laurel? You know she has always been secretive and unpredictable so I have no idea where she is right now," Asher responded.

Michaela hummed in response and continued tracing shapes on her boyfriend's arm. Michaela have been more affectionate lately and even though Asher loved the attention, he hated how his girlfriend's change was caused by something devastating as the death of a friend. Asher pulled his girlfriend closer and kissed her forehead softly.

"Everything that happened to all of us feels like they've been going on forever," Michaela suddenly spoke. "A cycle of horrible events we can't seem to escape."

"Things will get better, eventually," Asher assured her, even though he doesn't believe what he just said.

Michaela snuggled closer to her boyfriend. "I'm just glad we're still alive," she admitted. She detached herself from her boyfriend and sat down. "I keep thinking about how unfair Wes' death was but I'm also thinking how lucky he is to be able to escape this whole mess," Michaela added.

Asher suddenly remembered his dad's death and how he briefly thought committing suicide was selfish and unfair. Wes' death was different but felt the same, in a way, he felt abandoned and helpless. "We could leave," Asher offered in a joking tone, but his face showed seriousness.

Michaela looked back to her boyfriend and reached for his cheek and caressed him. "We can't."

Asher nodded in understanding. They couldn't leave until it was safe. Until they were sure nothing bad would follow them. "We can't," he affirmed with a nod.

"We need to fix this," Michaela continued. "We can't wait for those Brits to find the answers for us. We need to work together this time. No more bullshit."

Asher nodded. "You need to talk to Connor, then."

Michaela groaned. "Ugh, why can't this be easy?"


	6. Tracing Steps

A/N: Happy new year, everyone! I'm sorry this chapter took a really long time! I'm posting the next one on Sunday! Hope you enjoy this chapter and please leave a review! Thank you!

Chapter 6

Hermione tugged down the edge of her tight suit skirt and wondered how Lavender talked her into shopping for new muggle business attires. Her old ones were perfectly sensible ("they're the right measurements and length," she argued), but Lavender insisted on getting new ones because she believed that her friend's clothes are too long and are perfect for hiding inside a cloak. Hermione gave up because she knew Lavender wouldn't stop whining and because some part of her agreed as well.

"Is this okay?" Hermione asked as she open the bathroom door to show her friends the new suit she purchased.

Lavender squealed and pulled Hermione in front of the full-length mirror. Hermione had to admit, she looked good in her new suit. The fashion in their community is so much different in America. The Americans are not afraid of colors and different styles while the witches in Britain tend to stick with more neutral colors, longer skirts, and heavy cloaks to finish their looks. Her muggle clothes would take some getting use to. "You look positively amazing, Hermione!" Lavender complimented. Hermione blushed as she stared at herself in the mirror.

"My turn!" Ginny announced and hopped off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. The witches and wizards are staying in a house they rented near Middleton University. They were not sure how long their investigation would take and checking into a hotel would waste so much of their resources so when Neville suggested the house they found a few blocks away from the campus, they all agreed. They also agreed that food should be made by Harry and Ron, the only people in the house who actually knew how to cook.

Ginny opened the bathroom door and twirled around which made her friends laugh. She walked to the mirror and posed a few times. "I look amazing in muggle clothes!" she exclaimed as she rub her face on the sleeve of her new silk top.

"Aren't you glad you listened to me?" Lavender asked. "Being a girl is so much fun!"

Hermione snorted humorously. "Yeah, you already said that a million times while we were shopping!"

"Honestly, I'm glad we're all friends now," Ginny announced. "Remember how I used to wear jumpers everyday at Hogwarts?"

"Not as bad as Hermione here who only wear her uniform even in her sleep!" Lavender teased. Hermione laughed and threw a pillow at Lavender.

After a few minutes, the women became silent. "For a minute there, everything was fine," Lavender sighed.

Hermione and Ginny nodded but didn't respond. They knew what their friend meant. For a few hours, they pretended that they were shopping because they wanted to, not because they had to blend in with the rest of the muggles to investigate their friend's death. For a moment, they had the chance to put their problems aside and become lost in racks and racks of colorful and interesting clothes.

Luna, who was taking a nap in the other room, woke up and joined the rest of her friends. She noticed their sombre mood. "Thinking about Dean?" Luna asked.

The three women nodded. Luna didn't comment and instead took her dress off and tried on a blouse and pants that she bought. The three were amazed with how comfortable their friend is with her body, even with the scars the war left on her skin.

"I look weird," Luna announced as she look at herself in the mirror. She's wearing a white off-shoulder blouse with denim pants and her long blond hair is flowing down on her back. The three women thought it was weird to see Luna out of her bright-colored jumpers and over-the-top dresses but they also admitted that the young woman looked good as well.

"It's just weird because you're not used to it. Trust me, you look amazing, Luna!" Lavender assured her friend.

The house alarm suddenly beeped, announcing the men's arrival. The rest of their group went to the University to tour the campus, mainly the buildings Dean used to frequent. The night before, Hermione and Seamus broke inside the school's record office and accio'd Dean's files. They found his permanent record, different notes from professors, and records that he sent in to get into the university. Their plan was to tour the university, and observe Dean's former classmates and trace his steps. They needed better understanding of the place before making any significant actions.

The women changed into their normal clothes and met the others in the kitchen. They sat around the kitchen counter and conjured glasses and drinks. "What did you find?" Ginny asked.

"We walked around the campus, and mostly followed some of Dean's classmates," Ron answered. "They have interesting theories."

"Like what?"

"The most popular one is that they think Annalise Keating did it. Said Dean was her secret lover and then killed him," Seamus said.

Hermione pursed her lips. Harry caught it but didn't say anything. He, instead, chose to file it in his brain and bring it up again when they're alone.

"One student thought Dean was the one who set the house on fire because of his grades," Harry followed.

Hermione snorted. "I saw his records. Other than the alarmingly low marks he got last semesters... like I don't get why he failed his classes! I taught him my stud—,"

"Umm… Hermione?" Ron interrupted.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, as I was saying, he got his grades back up. That's not a problem," she explained.

"We need to talk to this Annalise person," Ginny started. "We need to know what type of person she is. Has Dean ever mentioned her to you?" she turned to Seamus.

Seamus nodded his head. "He mentioned her a couple of times, but mostly to complain about her class or work. He mostly mentioned Rebecca, Laurel, and Meggy."

Harry stood up. "We can't talk to Annalise yet. We told Bonnie we won't get in their way."

"We can't talk to them but maybe we can follow them around. We can use the disillutionment charm and Harry's invisibility cloak," Neville suggested.

"We can do that," Lavender agreed. "We don't really know what we're dealing with here. This is out of our element."

Seamus nodded. "Neville and Lav's right. I honestly have no idea what happened here and they clearly know something we don't."

"It's not the right time," Luna interjected. Her friends looked at her waiting for an explanation. She just shrugged. Luna never confirmed it, and her friends never asked but they've had the feeling that Luna is a real seer. Even Hermione couldn't deny the power of her eccentric friend's words.

"Fine, we'll wait," Ron sighed. "But what now?"

Ginny's face lighted up and turned to Seamus. "Do you know where he used to stay?"

Seamus nodded enthusiastically and pulled his wand from his pocket. "Accio Dean's letters!"

On the other room where Seamus is staying, his luggage opened magically and the letters zoomed and followed his command. Within seconds, the letters were propped on the counter right in front of the group. Seamus opened each envelope and searched for the letter with his address. "Here!" he exclaimed after finding it.

"We're breaking in! I need to find the best outfit for this," Lavender exclaimed and pulled Ginny back to their room.

Hermione opened the liquor cabinet and pulled a bottle of vodka and poured everyone a shot. "Liquid luck," she muttered wryly before downing hers.


	7. Apartment Hunting

A/N: Sorry for the slow update. School has been a real torture lately. Who here have seen the latest episodes, though? How screwed up were they, am I right?! Do you have a theory who killed Wes? Let me know!

Chapter 7

Seamus landed on the ground soundlessly, lifting his broom a little so the bristles won't drag on the floor. He looked around the street to check if anyone saw him and when he was sure that the street was deserted, he pulled a galleon out of his pocket and touched it with the tip of his wand. He muttered a spell which made the small coin glow glaringly in the dim-lighted street, the light it was emanating was even brighter than the street lamps.

He sat on the pavement, propped his broom beside him, and waited.

He thought about all those times he and Dean flew their brooms together—carefree and content. He had been proud when Dean made it to the Gryffindor Quidditch team in their sixth year. Dean had been too scared to try out because he was sure Harry would pick someone more qualified. In the end, out of all the six people who tried out for the position of chaser, Harry still chose Dean and not because they were friends but because Harry claimed Dean was the best among the others. They celebrated by flying on the pitch, drunk on alcohol Dean smuggled in the school.

A few minutes later, the streetlamps lose their lights. Seamus picked up his broom and stood up. He looked up at the sky and spotted the dangling feet of his friends moving towards the ground. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Lavender were the only ones who came. Ginny and Luna stayed back in the apartment to brew potions. Neville was left behind because they couldn't trust him to be stealthy.

"Is this it?" Ron asked once he landed. Seamus noticed him put something in his pocket which he assumed was the deluminator that Dumbledore left him, and would explain why his eyes were trying their hardest to adjust on the eerie darkness of the night.

"That's the building right there," Seamus pointed to the five-story building across where they were standing.

"What if someone sees us?" Lavender asked nervously.

"It's two in the morning, I'm pretty sure everyone's asleep. We'll confund them if we don't have a choice," Hermione responded.

They walked quietly together, not sure what they would find in the abandoned apartment. Dean has only been dead for a month but they weren't sure if his belongings were still in the room or the landlord boxed and threw them out. At the entrance, Harry casted alohamora on the door and entered the building without a hitch. They climbed the stairs to Dean's room. When they reached the door, they stopped and stood in front of it. There were no boxes outside which made them wonder whether their dead friend's things were still inside the apartment or the landlord didn't waste any time into emptying the room and renting the place to someone else.

Seamus grabbed the knob and looked at his friends. Hermione was standing right beside him and gave him a small nod. He took a deep breath and casted alohamora. They heard the door magically unlock and they opened it slowly. Everyone held their breaths and mentally prepared themselves to what they would find.

"That was anti-climactic…" Lavender muttered. The room was empty saved from Dean's belongings. No one seemed to have used the bed but looked like it was visited regularly because the room was not stuffy. It was far from clean but it didn't seem abandoned.

Seamus pointed his wand and muttered, "accio Dean's wand." For some reason, he was curious whether Dean's wand was still in the room or not. When after a few minutes nothing came zooming in on Seamus, they realized something was amiss.

"Why is it not here?" Lavender asked. "Didn't he swear off magic? It should be hidden here."

"Unless he put magical lock wherever he hid it?" Ron suggested.

Hermione scanned the room with her wand, trying to feel any lingering magic in the small room.

"That's weird," Hermione muttered.

"I don't feel anything," Lavender echoed what Hermione was thinking. Everyone agreed. There was no magic in the room.

"Do you think he hid his wizarding belongings somewhere else?" Ron asked.

"That could be possible," Seamus responded. "This is frustrating."

Everyone agreed.

"Let's just scan the room. I feel like his girlfriend still comes in here so let's not take or mess up anything," Hermione said to her friends.

Not sure of what they were looking for, they searched the whole apartment. They checked under furniture, and inside the cupboards and drawers. They searched manually and magically, but the apartment was empty. Harry, frustrated with how their mission turned out, suddenly noticed the stacks of folders in Dean's desk. He grabbed them and opened them one by one, finding private files and pictures of a man named Wallace Mahoney.

"What's that?" Ron asked. They all gathered around Harry to look at the files he was holding.

"Found it on the desk. Probably a file for a case he was working on," Harry replied, skimming through the papers. When he turned a page, however, he was struck to see a picture of Dean as a boy.

"That's Dean," Hermione said.

Seamus grabbed the folder and read. After a few minutes, he gave the folder back to Harry. "Christophe Edmond," he muttered. He looked at his friends and said the name louder for them to hear. "Christophe Edmond is his real name."

"We need these files," Ron announced. "These are important. If Laurel comes in here regularly, she might decide to clean the place up one day. We need to make a duplicate."

Hermione nodded and pointed her wand on the folders. She whispered "geminio" as she went through the folders and once she was done, Harry brought them back on the desk the same way he had found them.

Excited from what they have found, they decided to scan the room once again and not to overlook anything. They focused on Dean's books for school, pictures of him and his friends, a letter from a woman named Meggy (someone they all agreed to pay a visit), and a painting made by Catherine Hapstall (another person they're curious about).

"I still think it's weird there's not one magical trace in this room," Ron suddenly said.

"I know," Harry agreed. "Even though he didn't use his wand or anything from the wizarding world, he wouldn't just throw them all away or hide them somewhere he can't access immediately."

"And he packed so many things when he left Britain," Hermione added. "I asked him in his party. He said he was bringing all of his magical books and his potions equipment. He must have thought he would need them at some point."

"This whole apartment is too bland," Lavender joined.

Seamus listened to his friends. He agreed to all of their observations. There was no explanation to Dean's missing belongings. So far, everything didn't make sense to him. He was getting frustrated at the situation but didn't want to show it to his friends because he didn't know whether it would make them stop helping him or not. He was also starting to feel betrayed by Dean for not being honest and open with him about his life in the United States. Seamus felt trap and alone but didn't want to look weak.

Before he could reply, Harry suddenly jumped to the door and looked through the eye hole. "Laurel's here!" Harry said.

They all dropped everything and looked over the room to check if everything was back to the way they used to be. Hermione and Ron left first, they did a side-along apparition. Harry apparated next. Seamus heard Laurel fumble with her keys on the other side of the door. He looked at Lavender who grabbed his hand tightly. She gripped her wand tightly and apparated with Seamus.

When Laurel finally opened the door, they were all gone.


End file.
